Lead Me Out
by Dead Caffeine Junkie
Summary: Tragedy causes the X Men and the Brotherhood to start again together. But nothing is as final as it seems. Pairings: S/L, Kurtty, more pairings later. WARNING slash.
1. Chapter One

**Lead Me Out**

It's been a long time since I posted anything and an even longer time since I posted anything on Ff.Net, so I've decided to do something now. Bear in mind that I've only seen almost all of the season 1 episodes, and hardly any of the episodes with the new mutants in it, so they ain't in here.

I know everyone says that, this isn't one of your usual OC character fics, but by now there's no such thing as an original OC character fic. This is one of those OC character fics where the OC character just acts as a catalyst for a more interesting plot… something interesting will eventually happen to him, Mwahahahaha.

Yea, there's plentya slash in here, but also some het for you straight people, you weird folk you. 

There's also mention of war (and bloodiness, etc, that goes with it) torture, rape and maybe even the most horrific of all… nice Jean!!! (gasp) But yea, there's a reasin' for the ratin'

Oh, and give me a break with the long rambling moronic forenote, I had three hours of sleep last night and it's 1:41 in the AM now… YOU do the math.

The Helsiv High Council was gathered in its entire jewel coloured richness and splendor, seated around the tall and forbidding throne of the High Priestess, Queen Mellyar. She sat tall and proud, aloof, un-fidgeting, totally collected. The power that she exuded and wrapped around her form like a mantel magnified her plain looks in the eyes of others. She had long lustrous navy hair and hard apathetic jade eyes. She was dressed in the traditional long box-gown of women of her status and wore the crown of Helsiv to show her station.

She and her council sat in stony silence, watching the circular stone courtyard, a tall post in the middle it's only furniture, with bored disinterest. The wind blew across the circle, ruffling the clothes of the council members, yet they remained eerily silent and attentive to the proceedings. 

The post in the middle had hooks embedded into it at different intervals up its length. The purpose of this strange ornament was about to be demonstrated.

After a few more minutes of still silence, the Queen's voice rang out clear across the stones. It was a low, melodious growl of a voice.

"Bring out the condemned."

A double door on the other side of the circle creaked open pendulously, and two brawny soldiers emerged, dragging a hapless prisoner by his armpits between them. From the way the body hung; feet, legs, arms, head all limp, it was obvious that it was unconscious. Its unclothed state made it easy to identify this person as a male.

His hands were bound together tightly at the wrist, and they were looped over the hooks in the way that meat is hung up to dry. The body was left slumped on its knees against the post, arms pulled uncomfortably above his head.

The soldiers stepped back a few feet and stood at ease.

"Daqyrii Zadaris, you have been sentenced to die by magical force. Is there anything you wish to say before the sentence is carried out?"

The body was unconscious, so of course, couldn't say anything.

The Queen continued. 

"Commence punishment."

A figure appeared from the side of the circle, standing on a raised dais. It was so swathed in black material that its gender was indeterminate. It rose what were apparently its arms and the wind stilled. The air pressure began to increase and the sky above the post began to bleed into bruised hues, purple, blue and angry black. Static electricity ran through some of the council members, who continued to stare fixedly at the happenings.

The air began to smell like copper.

Just as the pressure was becoming too great (the nose of one of the soldier's started to bleed) and the area of damaged sky above the post began to spark, the black layered figure brought their hands down and discharged it, sending the great magical build-up striking towards the post like a lighting bolt towards the helplessly bound figure.

Seconds before the hissing, spitting shard hit the bound body, the boy lifted his head and screamed something into the oncoming energy, unintelligible above the soundless boom of the descending shard.

There was a flash and a clear, full scream as the bolt hit… but there was something wrong.

The body had disappeared, leaving only a charred circle of stone where the magical bolt had hit the ground.

All eyes turned, still silent, towards the High Priestess, who stood regally, the fierce heated flash in her eyes and the barely audible crackling of her aura the only indications of her incandescent rage.

"I want him found." She said, without raising her voice. She didn't need to, the raw power in her voice carried over all mortal sounds.

As she turned and swept out, followed by her Council, another pair of eyes watched from the top of the stone wall surrounding the courtyard, unseen in their disguise as a stable boy. He, too, had watched the execution fail. The only difference was he knew why.

*******************************************************

Scott was standing, watching his lover by the window with his one good eye reflecting his inner worry when Xavier gave him the news.

:: Scott. Cerebro just registered a strong mutant presence, which spiked before it dropped down to this constant signal. Could you please take someone with you to go and investigate it? ::

Xavier's mental voice sounded tired, but then they all sounded tired these days. 

            :: Sure Professor. ::

            He looked back at the uncharacteristically sober form staring out of the window and sighed.

            It was funny how the events of less than a day could change your life so drastically.

            Oh, Scott knew that it hadn't started then… aggression from the anti-mutants had been building up for quite some time previously, ever since the confirmation of the existence of mutants. There had been fear and panic among the public, which was being combated by public awareness campaigns by the handful of mutant sympathizers. The Professor had helped by making the risky decision to reveal the school's true identity. Although this was a potentially dangerous action, it actually worked. Most people went back to their lives. However, there are always exceptions.

            The political party known as the 'Animutes' (a bastardized form of Anti-mutants) had built up a sort of militaristic following. They eventually began to turn the tide of the public back to their viewpoint through propaganda. Anything that went wrong in the cities, the country, anywhere, was blamed on the mutants. So, the attack, when it came, wasn't unexpected. A substantial group of Animute troops attacked the Institute, butchering many of the students.

            The X-Men had actually teamed up with the Brotherhood to defend themselves, but they were woefully outnumbered. Just as things were looking really bad, they received their saving reinforcements. The sympathizers showed up with those neutral people who thought that the massacre of children, whether they were mutant or not, was abhorrent.

            The Animutes were held off long enough for everyone left alive to escape via the Blackbird. But not everyone escaped.

            Of the X-Men and the Brotherhood, only Xavier, Scott, Kitty, Kurt, Jean, Lance and Todd were left.

            Even they had not escaped unscathed.

            Scott had been hit full in the face by 'friendly fire' and had lost an eye. The blast had, ironically, also finally given him control over his powers, so he no longer needed the glasses. He still wore them, though, as he felt self-conscious about the long, thick scar that bisected his eye.

            Jean and Xavier had exhausted themselves with mental attacks, to the point where Jean was in a coma for a week. It had been painful to tell her about the massive casualties when she had finally come round, and she was still in mourning, as were they all. Her shielding abilities had weakened considerably after the battle, and her grief often bled out to affect those around her. The mental force she had used in the fight had turned her eyes black, except for the whites.

            Surviving the tragedy thanks to their avoidant powers had seemed to further push Kurt and Kitty together. They were now going out and often slept in the same bed, although they hadn't actually slept together yet.

            Kurt had stopped using his powers at all, seeming to blame them for his survival and the other's demise. He suffered the loss of Evan greatly, and had greatly matured mentally.

            Kitty had also lost some of her youthful naïve innocence and had become a lot more quiet, cynical and angry. She had cut her hair into a short cropped cut which was shaved at the back, and had taking to dressing in plain black dresses, which didn't really suit her, out of respect for her dead friends.

            Todd had been surprisingly, and almost grossly, cheerful after the tragedy. He had taken up the role of practical joker and had tried to keep the other's hopes high with jokes. Kitty and Kurt had been insulted at his apparent unconcern for the event… sure, if it was just the X-men who had been killed, it might have been understandable, even though unlikely, but Pietro and Fred had been killed on the field too. Scott had gotten good at seeing the hidden meanings behind what people said and did due to his sight defection, so it was less of a surprise to him than it had been to the others when Kitty had discovered Todd's limp body lying in a pond of his own blood from his slashed arms in the bathroom.

            He was currently in the new infirmary in their temporary hideout, another mansion in a secure place, under the care of their new doctor, Dr. Oljannie, one of the mutant sympathizers. She had good reason to be… she looked normal, with plain, curly brown hair and soft hazel eyes, but she had the power to accelerate healing, although heavy healing periods drained her own strength. It was she who had saved Scott's eyesight, among other things.

            Lance had taken everything on his own shoulders. He felt that he had failed his three 'brothers' as the eldest, and now Todd's suicide attempt… little wonder that the guy was depressed. He had been quiet and helpful to everyone, trying to protect them all and keep them going.

            But Scott could tell that it weighted heavily on his shoulders. It also didn't help that he blamed Xavier for everything, failing to protect them, not doing enough to look out for this eventuality, releasing the identity of the school in the beginning. It all made their interactions very short, terse and often ending in anger and frustration. 

            Scott walked over to Lance and put a hand on his shoulder.

            "Cerebro's picked up some readings. Wanna go check 'em out with me?"

            Lance nodded, then turned somberly to go. Scott stopped him, hugged him, then leaned in and kissed his lover on the cheek for comfort.

            "Todd'll be okay. Come on."

            Lance smiled half-heartedly at Scott, and they both left to look for the new mutant.

I hoped you liked it, and even if you didn't, please review me to tell me why. I'm gonna be trying to balance out the focus on the characters, so if you could tell me in later chapters, I'll luv you forever.

New chapter up soon, if you like it.

Hell, I'll post it even if you don't, I'm just that kinda person


	2. Chapter Two

After the amazing (sarcasm) response from my last post, I was not disheartened. Here's another one, you bastards.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Lance neared the alley where the unknown mutant's signal had been pinpointed and stopped without going in, waiting for his boyfriend to catch up. Coming out had been good for him. All he had been doing in that mansion was moping around. not that he didn't have good reason, but Lance Alvers did NOT like to be trapped in one place for too long, even if it was himself that was doing the trapping.  
  
He admitted to himself that he did blame himself for not watching his only remaining 'brother' carefully enough to stop the suicide attempt, or at least see the signs. He was also aware of the near clinical depression that had overcome him recently. Oljannie had threatened to put him on a course of anti-depressants, but he was determined to get through this without drugs- it was only natural to go through something like this after half of your kind, half your friends (although you would have never admitted that to their faces) had been slaughtered.  
  
He didn't want to think about that, and he totally avoided thinking about how Fred had gone down, taking half of the enemy with him, or that ingenious attack that they had created to catch Pietro. he didn't think about that either.  
  
It was probably only the fact that he know had a new family depending on him that kept him going.  
  
//Well, // he amended as Scott approached him //that and a new boyfriend. //  
  
"They're down here yeah?" He asked Scott, who nodded after a period of silent communication with Xavier. Lance held in his hatred of the man and continued for Scott's sake.  
  
"I'll go in first, in case whoever it is is hostile. You back me up."  
  
Scott didn't argue, although he didn't look too pleased, and Lance went in.  
  
He crept in as silent as possible, expecting anything. What he had least expected to find was the slightly singed and battered looking naked body of what appeared to be a young boy.  
  
He laid sprawled face-up on the dirty floor, his strangely coloured blue- white skin nearly luminous in the dark. He knelt down to check that the boy was breathing, then turned his head to call to Scott that the other mutant was unconscious and apparently in serious need of some medical help.  
  
It was because his head was turned that he didn't see the foot coming, and only because he turned his head in the boy's direction at Scott's shout that his neck wasn't broken.  
  
Scott watched as the boy who was, according to Lance, probably seriously hurt, kicked a foot up aiming for Lance's head. He shouted a warning to Lance, who didn't turn in time to see avoid the blow and was kicked in the side of the head, quite powerfully as he was sent sprawling. And it took a lot to send Lance over.  
  
The boy used the momentum of his kick to flip over into a crouch and roll away from Lance, flipping back so that he was standing and facing the two bigger boys in a fighting stance. And all this was done without a stitch on him.  
  
Scott prepared himself to shoot to graze the boy's arm if he became more of a threat. Lance got up slowly and backed off, clutching the side of his head in obvious pain.  
  
//He'll have a headache from that. // Scott thought correctly.  
  
As Scott watched, the boy, he realized that his whole frame was trembling slightly. He kept swaying as if he was going to fall down, something that seemed out of place considering the agility and flexibility that he had just witnessed. This boy couldn't have a bad sense of balance. He was obviously struggling to stay aware, but his body eventually won the battle. The boy's eyes rolled back into his head and he pitched forward in a dead faint. Scott, unwilling to see his nose broken by impacting with the floor, lunged forward and caught him just in time.  
  
The first thing he did was to take his jumper off (without losing hold of the body) and wrapped him in it, giving him some decency at least. He then gave the figure a quick once over, in case there was any unusual things about him that might identify them easily as mutants.  
  
He had dark violet hair, long and straggly and cut to his cheekbones, but that could be passed off as dye if it was noticed. There didn't seem to be any strange appendages from what Scott could see. He did take note of the bad bruising that marred the boy's gamin features. The right side of his face was bruised from the black eye to the purpling lower cheekbone and there was a slight gash in running up through his hairline on the left side above his eyebrow. There were also small bruises along his jaw line which were the shape of the impression made by fingertips.  
  
He reached down after picking the unmoving boy up, to fold his hands into his chest for easy carrying, and discovered, to his disgust, that some of the fingers were obviously broken. There were heavy rope burns around his wrists which looked as if they would scar and had torn the flesh open in some places.  
  
Scott briefly wondered where in the hell the boy had come from, and in such a condition, and he couldn't stand to look for anymore injuries. That was Dr. Oljannie's job.  
  
He turned to Lance, who was nursing his poor hurting face, casting rueful looks at the one responsible.  
  
"It's all right; he's out for the count now. You must have scared him or something."  
  
Lance rubbed his cheek and moved his jaw around to check that he still could.  
  
"Whatever." He muttered under his breath, and turned to lead them both to the car.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
Adelaide Oljannie had always had a feeling that there was something different about her, although she could never articulate exactly what the feeling was. She lived with her godparents after her biological ones were killed by a panicked bank robber when she was young. She loved them very much and hated being away from them for so long, even if she knew it was safer this way.  
  
When the news that mutants existed, and even had a school, had come out, Adelaide had been going through the last year of medical school. She was a brilliant student and had been set to do great things. However, after hearing about these other people with special powers, she had become excited by the thought that, maybe, this was why she felt so different, why she was such a good doctor. If she could find out more about this Xavier guy, then maybe he could tell her whether or not she too was one of them. So, she lost all her credit and the support of a great number of people, and began working with the mutant sympathizers.  
  
Now, after the vicious attack on the practically defenceless school, she had chosen to provide them with medical help. Xavier had tested her for the X-gene and, although she didn't have it and so wasn't a mutant per say, he had told her that she had a gift or power all of her own, one that she could use to heal (or hurt) other people.  
  
//It was a good thing too // She thought to herself. //I know that this kid would have bled to death if I didn't have this gift. //  
  
She was now quite drained by the effort that had gone into healing the kid's wounds, and she still hadn't even totally healed all of them. Added to that was the weight of sorrow for him when she discovered the extent of his injuries, leading her to the conclusion that he had probably been tortured. Probably one of those anti-mutant gangs that became popular after the fall of the Institute.  
  
She had set the five mangled fingers, which had been broken through someone bending them in the opposite way. The person who did this must have known what they were doing too, as there were bruises underneath his fingernails, the kind that can only be made through constant pressure rolling over the nails. This type of torture was agonizingly slow and excruciatingly painful.  
  
She had healed the faint hairline crack in the back of his skull, and had reduced the swelling on his face from the bruises, although she didn't have anything left for the bruising by that point. He should only suffer with a mild headache, rather than a full-blown concussion when he woke up.  
  
She had also repaired the four cracked ribs and had reduced the numerous bruisings on his torso. From the way that they were placed and shaped, she suspected that he had been kicked till his ribs cracked.  
  
Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to do anything but soothe the rubbed raw wrists. He would have scars.  
  
The soles of his feet were raw and blistered, as if they had been skinned and he had been made to stand on hot coals. She had tried to repair them as much as she could, but had been drained after fixing the life- threatening problem.  
  
He had massive internal tearing and bleeding, so much so that it was a wonder to her that he had been able to even move to attack Lance as he had.  
  
From the internal injuries, the bruises on his hipbones and the blood that had dried black in a thick layer between his thighs, Adelaide felt pretty sure that she could say that their new recruit had recently been viciously and brutally raped.  
  
She didn't want to think about what whoever had had him before did to him to make him have those small fingertip bruises along his jaw either. He had definitely put up a fight, if whoever it was had had to force his mouth open.  
  
She cut off that thought there and then. She decided only to tell Xavier about this. If the boy wanted to tell everyone else when he came round, it would be his choice.  
  
Right now, she wanted to get something to eat and have a lie-down. That healing had taken a lot out of her, mentally and physically.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
|| "Come on, baby. Show us what you can do. We know you're gagging for it, so don't bother trying to fight us."  
  
So many hands here, so many people! I don't want any of this, it's not true, none of its true! I need to fight them off, Oh Daiya, where the fuck is my sword? Oh Goddess, I can't fight them off, they're too strong for me. Daiya, please protect me from them, please. Oh Goddess I can't do this anymore.  
  
- Large hands grabbed him by the arms and legs and pinned him down-  
  
I'm too young, please, don't, Goddess please.  
  
- One person forcibly held his legs apart while someone else straddled  
his chest, ignoring the pain of protesting cracked ribs -  
  
"Come on sweetheart. We all know you're just a cheap street-whore. Why don't you give it to us like we know you want and maybe we'll leave you with a stomach left afterwards hm? Now open that pretty, pretty mouth."  
  
Alexsion, where are you? You said you'd be there. ||  
  
*******************************************************  
  
It was Kurt's turn to keep vigil by the new boy's bedside, so it was Kurt who was startled out of his half-doze by the piercing screams which burst from their slumbering patient as he sat up.  
  
"Calm down, calm down, your zafe now. Frau Oljannie! He'z avake!"  
  
The boy sat up fast, probably too fast as he had to hold his head when he did. He almost immediately whipped round to see his new surroundings, despite the dizziness the action must have caused him. Ever since the war, Kurt had stopped trying to hide who he was and had destroyed his image inducer. He said that it didn't matter to him anymore.  
  
Unfortunately, he may have been too premature in doing that, as the boy froze like a startled cat when he saw the blue-furry mutant sitting by his bed. The stranger moved quickly, quietly and efficently, as was demonstrated to Kurt when the other boy moved himself as far away from Kurt as possible, keeping his eyes on him all the time.  
  
They were a soft dark grey colour, and very large and intense. There was obvious fear and pain in them, from seeing Kurt and moving too much, but there was also something buried that Kurt was too inexperienced to properly define. it was a kind of dead hardness...  
  
"Wha-whatever the fuck you want demon, you better not be 'specting to get it from me, 'less you want to be hung by that tail o'yourn."  
  
The stranger, looked oddly strong, even though he was tremoring in fear and dressed only in plain white pyjamas. Kurt held up his hands in an appeasing fashion.  
  
"Look, I'm not going to cauze trouble and I'm not a demon. You don't have to be afraid."  
  
Dr Oljannie entered to this scenario at the moment.  
  
"Oh dear. Kurt, could you step outside quietly please?"  
  
Kurt nodded and slowly backed out of the room, not turning his back to the boy for a second, although he was concerned about leaving Adelaide in there. Who knows what that stranger's powers were?  
  
"Hi." Adelaide said calmly and without any sudden gestures to the obviously severely shaken and terrified boy. Involuntary shivers ran through his rangy frame and he had a decidedly panicked look to him. And as a doctor, Adelaide knew that panic could turn itself into attack.  
  
"You don't have to afraid, we want to help you. I'm Adelaide Oljannie. Can you tell me your name?"  
  
As she said this, some of the wild look came out of that stance, although he was far from relaxed.  
  
"Where'm I?"  
  
"You were lying badly injured in an alley in a nearby town. We brought you back here to the safety of the remaining mutants from the Bayville institute."  
  
This didn't appear to help, if anything, the boy looked even more confused.  
  
"Where's Bayville? Which ruler d'you serve? Are you a follower of Daiya or Mab? What's going to happen t'me?"  
  
Oljannie was now slightly worried about her patient. Maybe the trauma he'd had recently had resulted in some kind of amnesia or brain damage.  
  
"First of all, nothing you don't want to happen to you is going to happen to you. We can answer the rest of your questions when you're more settled down, okay? What's your name?"  
  
The boy looked suspiciously at the woman, before grudgingly answering.  
  
"Daqyrii Zadaris. And I need t'know who you follow."  
  
Okay, And she had thought she had it bad with 'Adelaide Oljannie'. She supposed it could have been worse.  
  
"What do you mean who do I follow? And do you want to get changed into some proper clothes?" She asked, indicating the neatly folded jeans, T-shirt and jumper that she had brought in with her before she had left Kurt to watch him.  
  
Daqyrii looked down at what he was wearing in sudden realisation.  
  
"Bu-but I was... I weren't wearing..." He trailed off quietly, his gaze turning inwards for a minute before saying in an awful hoarse disbeliving voice. "They wouldn't let me-. They said it'd be easier access if they didn't... have to-. They kept saying that I should be used to it..."  
  
He collapsed from the half-crouch he had been in to sit in a crumpled cross- legged heap, and his shivers became more pronounced shudders.  
  
"They... they said that... that... they said..."  
  
Dr Oljannie couldn't see a person suffering like this and not do anything. She sat down on the bed next to him and cautiously reached a hand out to offer some comfort, let him know she was there. She cursed at herself afterwards beacuse she should have known better.  
  
"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" He screamed as she touched him, lashing out in mindles terror and barely missing her as she dodged hastily away.  
  
He sat far away from her, at the other end of the bed, and bent his knees up to his chest, hugging them tightly to his body as he stared tormentedly at her.  
  
"I'm sorry Daqyrii. For touching you and for what happened to you. No one deserves that."  
  
Daqyrii held still and asked shamedly. "H-how do you know?"  
  
"I'm a doctor Daqyrii, I healed you. I'm sorry for using my power on you without your knowing, but your injuries would have been fatal otherwise. You might have died from blood loss..."  
  
She trailed off, not wanting to upset him any further. He seemed to have calmed down quite a lot since she had mentioned she was a doctor.  
  
"You're a doctor and you healed me. So you're neutral then, or on our side."  
  
Adelaide looked confused.  
  
"I don't understand you, what sides do you keep talking about? The Animutes? Are they the ones who did this to you?"  
  
Daqyrii looked at her with an expression mixing shock with confusion and a hefty twist of disbelief, his shame and fear seemingly washed over by his incredulousness.  
  
"The war." She still looked blank. "The religious war. Between the followers of Daiya and the followers of Mab? You know?"  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"There's no war here kid. I don't even know who Mab or Daiya are."  
  
Daqyrii gave up the bewildered stare and looked at her dead on.  
  
"Are you telling me, truthfully, that you have never even heard about the religious war, or the goddesses Daiya and Mab."  
  
She shook her head, drawing her lower lip into her mouth to suck on as she did when she was worried and confused.  
  
"Oh Goddess." Daqyrii said, then readdressed Adelaide.  
  
"You've heard of a place called Helsiv?"  
  
She again shook her head... she'd been doing that a lot.  
  
Daqyrii just looked back at her, thinking things through, until a bulb suddenly lit.  
  
"Oh shit."  
  
Dere ya go. Next one soon. 


	3. Chapter Three for Innodea

Okay, this chapter is dedicated to, and solely for, Innodea, who reviewed this awful thing and gave me a pepsi to keep writing it.  
  
It's all for you.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
Kitty sat on a chair next to a hospital-type bed in another part of the infirmary. She watched with a sobriety that would have been uncharacteristic of her before the battle, as Todd, the occupant of the bed, looked down at his hands. Hands that were bandaged from the elbow to the wrist.  
  
He felt incredibly stupid.  
  
"I feel incredibly stupid."  
  
Kitty said nothing.  
  
"I don't know why I... I just didn't feel like I should have been here anymore. I wasn't thinking straight yo, it just... kinda, happened."  
  
When Kitty spoke it sounded harsh and angry and bitter.  
  
"So you, like, thought that it would be okay to just, like, leave us like that?"  
  
"I'm sorry yo. I just, I couldn't take it any more."  
  
Kitty suddenly stood, the chair toppling behind her. Todd flinched away slightly, not because she was so angry, but because she could also see that she had been afraid and upset. She didn't want to lose another friend, they were all the others had after the bloody massacre. Her eyes looked wet, but she didn't cry. She might have done in the past, but now... she didn't cry.  
  
"Why didn't you tell anyone then? Why did you have to..." She gestured to his mummified arms. "Damnit Todd, we don't need to, like, lose anymore of our family. You never told any of us, you could have told one of us, we could have helped you. What if you had died!"  
  
Todd snapped back.  
  
"I said I was sorry, yo! I tried to pretend like none of it ever happened, but I couldn't keep going on, an' it seemed like the thing to do at the time."  
  
He calmed down a little.  
  
"I didn't mean to upset you. I just... I dunno. Maybe I just need some more time yo."  
  
Kitty stood there, Todd looking back at her, and her anger finally left her. She leant forward and awkwardly hugged Todd around the neck before leaving to go out of the room.  
  
"Just don't do it again, okay."  
  
He nodded at her as she left.  
  
He really hadn't planned to cut his wrists open, but he'd just sort of snapped. The only reason he had surivived the attack when the rest of them had fallen was because he had been knocked out halfway through and then protected by Fred. When they had taken the large boy down with a heavy duty missile, he had fallen almost onto the smaller teen, and they had both been taken for dead. It was only at the smoky, terribly quiet end of the battle that Lance had found him, picked him up and carried him back to the other survivors.  
  
Todd felt guilty for living when he was the weakest member of the Brotherhood, and also for wishing that more of the X-men had died rather than the only other members of their unrelated family apart from him and Lance. Kitty's sentiments had finally made him realise that he had another family. It wasn't better, and it wasn't new, but felt more like something that had already been there, and had just needed something like the recent catastrophe to fully rise.  
  
They had all been different, they were all more adult with a dark cloud hanging over them- the weight of being the ones left alive. The strange new people that they had become had panicked Todd, so he acted up to try and counter the overall; hanging depression which had tainted the group. Of all of them, it had been Lance's withdrawal that had jarred with Todd the most. Being left on his own for most of the time had finally taken it's toll on him, leaving him with too much opportuniy to beat himself up over the death's of Pietro and Fred especially. So he had taken a razor from the bathroom and had clumsily slit his wrists.  
  
He felt... different now. The spinning, white-out feeling of being out of control had faded and he was left with a strange full feeling of emptiness. It was hard to explain. He just felt... heavier inside. He sighed and looked down at his mutilated wrists, then lay back and closed his eyes, trying to get some sleep despite the nagging itch underneath the bandages and the screams of the dying still in his ears.  
  
******************************************************* Sorry it's so short, but I just realised that this is the old version of the fic, and the new version is on a disk somewhere, with more parts. Don't worry, I'll post the next bit soon. 


	4. Chapter Four

Here's the next chapter, to any one out there who actually cares.  
  
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Scott walked over to his dark haired boyfriend and looped his arms around his shoulders, holding him back into his own body and resting his chin on the other's shoulder.  
  
"How's the head doing?" He asked quietly into Lance's ear.  
  
Lance made a face.  
  
"Feel's like I got kicked in the head. funny that. Considering, I did."  
  
Scott just chuckled at Lance's sarcasm and kissed the joint of his neck and his shoulder gently. Leaving his head in the crook of Lance's neck, breathing in his smell, Scott just sighed.  
  
Lance finished taking the aspirin that he had got from the medicine cabinet and just stood looking at his boyfriend hanging over his shoulder. Who would have thought that the two leaders of the rival gangs of mutants would one day be leaning against each other in solace, heads bent gently towards each other in peace and breathing together in love. Who would have thought that he, Lance Alvers, could ever fall in love with the upright, uptight Scott Summers? Him, the original poster boy for high school rebel? Some things never made sense. Like the massacre of a high school full of children whose only crime was to be born with a different gene.  
  
Scott felt the muscles in the shoulders beneath his head tense and stepped back a bit, looking into Lance's face reflected in the mirror. He saw the angry pain in there and knew immediately what Lance was thinking about. he thought about it all the time too.  
  
"Come on." He said, pulling back from Lance and gently taking his hand. "Let's see of we can't massage that headache away huh?"  
  
Lance smiled back at his lover and turned to follow, thanking God that some things, at least, still made sense in the world.  
  
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Adelaide was growing more and more concerned for the boy's mental health by the minute. She was beginning to feel convinced that the bizarre things he was telling her were a result of some kind of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She decided to try and lead him to realise reality through careful questioning.  
  
"If you want to get changed, then maybe you could answer some questions. We might be able to find out what happened to you, hm?"  
  
He gave her a look that clearly said 'I KNOW what happened' but he decided to humour her. There was no point in him giving her too much information, so he'd only tell her what she asked about and what he thought she needed to know. He took the clothes and stared at her, watching him impatiently.  
  
"What? Oh! Woops, I'll just go then shall I?"  
  
She grinned and left the room as he gazed stonily at her. When she had left, he began getting changed. As he took the white pajama top off, he took the opportunity to check out the damage done. The bruises that he had seen forming before he had lost consciousness were practically gone, and he felt little pain from his ribs. That woman really must be a healer. He saw the wounds on his wrists and knew that they'd forever be a reminder of what he had gone through in those dungeons. He suddenly didn't want to look at his body anymore, and pulled the black T-shirt over his head. The sleeves came to his elbows, the collar hung so low that his collarbones were exposed, and the bottom of the T-shirt came down to his mid-thigh. He took the pajama bottoms off, pulling the jeans on as fast as possible, almost immediately after. He shuddered again and had to hold himself around the stomach as unseen but half-felt memories flitted through his head making his insides roil. He didn't even think about that. The jeans were surprisingly slightly too tight for him, even though the legs were too long. He rolled the cuffs up at the bottom so that he wouldn't trip on them. He folded the pajamas and sat back on the edge of the bed, thinking about what he was going to tell the doctor when she came back.  
  
There was a knock on the door.  
  
"Are you decent?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Adelaide came back in and ran a critical eye over him. He felt very uncomfortable suddenly, and moved himself into a defensive posture.  
  
"Oh dear. That T-shirt's way too big for you. How are the jeans?"  
  
"They're a bit tight." He said.  
  
"Damn. Well, we'll obviously have to go get some new clothes for you later. Anyway, back to business. Lets start with your age. How old are you?"  
  
"'Bout 15 I think."  
  
Oljannie felt her stomach twist as she remembered exactly how he had been tortured, and wondered what kind of sick people would do something so brutal to a child. She hid her disgust carefully and continued.  
  
"Ok. Where are you from?"  
  
"I think I was born in Siwell, in Emaht, but I moved around a lot after that." He sounded bored.  
  
Adelaide hadn't heard of either of those places, and made a mental note to ask the Professor if he had. Now for the difficult question.  
  
"Okay. Now, you don't have to answer this question if you don't want to. Just tell me if you're uncomfortable ok, and we'll move onto something else."  
  
He nodded and she continued.  
  
"Can you remember who tortured you and how you ended up in the alley?"  
  
It was a heavy question, and when Daqyrii was quiet for a long while, she began to worry that she had pushed too hard too fast. It wasn't uncommon for rape and torture victims to go catatonic after the event. Luckily, he eventually responded.  
  
"I was caught by a troop of Queen Mellyar's followers. I don't s'pose you've heard of her either?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"She's Mab's High Priestess. Mab's the sister goddess of Daiya, but that's another story. They unarmed me 'n hexed me 'n dragged me back to her castle, the middle of their territory. They had me... interrogated for information. I refused to tell 'em anything, so the Queen ordered me executed..."  
  
Adelaide interrupted.  
  
"Executed? Why, you're only a kid!"  
  
Daqyrii looked at her with a sceptical look.  
  
"Because. I was dangerous t'her and I would serve as an' example to the other rebels and her political adversaries. And I'm not a kid. She." He swallowed hard and looked down at his knees. It was obvious that this was difficult for him to talk about.  
  
"She th-threw me to her guards after the interrogation and let... let them have their way wi'me." He shuddered all over. "She kept me in the prisons 'til I was too weak to use my power against her, and then sentenced me t'death by magic, execution at her sorcerer's hands."  
  
His voice faded off slightly, as he recalled the events that he had forgotten up until now.  
  
"I woke up tied to th'post... so I must've been unconscious when they brought me out... then I saw the magical build up about t'release above me, so I did a catalyst spell." He thought for a while. "It must've interacted with the execution bolt 'n sent me here."  
  
He looked back up at Adelaide and some of the fearful confusion had disappeared from his gaze. Adelaide, however, still looked blank.  
  
"So... an unplanned magical interaction dropped you here?"  
  
The boy shrugged. "Far as I know."  
  
"I still don't understand why this Queen person thought you were a threat."  
  
Daqyrii sighed in annoyance.  
  
"'Coz I'm one of only a handful of people who are willing to use magic in a harmful way against her. There aren't many magic users who're willing t'become soldiers y'know."  
  
He watched her face crease in surprise and denial.  
  
"But you can't be a soldier! You're only fifteen!"  
  
"So? I can hold a sword and wield magic. It'd be selfish o'me not t'help in the resistance. Besides, I'd rather fight on the side of the rebels than on her side any day. "  
  
Apparently the doctor was having trouble with this idea.  
  
"But_ but they can't expect you to be a soldier. You'd have to kill people."  
  
Adelaide felt cold as she suddenly realised that the boy must have been telling her the truth, even though it sounded like a fantastic story. The way he answered her brooked no allowance for disbelief.  
  
"Yea so? There's always deaths in war. Most of the kids on our side've learned to fight as soon as they're big enough to be able to lift a sword. And I can use magic. Whatever happened to me back there is nothing compared to what would have happened if I told her anything about my side. I'm expendable. The cause is not."  
  
Adelaide looked at Daqyrii in horrified fascination, feeling sick. While her realisation that this boy's childhood was spent with a gun in his hand sickened her naturally mothering spirit, the purple haired boy remained stoic. His expression was granite.  
  
"Y-you, you can't just..." She trailed off, trying to grasp the concept in her head. "How many people have you killed?"  
  
Daqyrii shrugged.  
  
"I dunno. I can't count whole armies."  
  
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Kitty sat with her legs curled up under her, listening to the radio through her headphones and flipping aimlessly through a miscellaneous magazine. Kurt opened and shut the door behind her, and she felt the bed depress as he sat down.  
  
She took her headphones off and turned to kiss him.  
  
"Hey." She said softly. "My turn to watch the new guy?"  
  
"Nein." He said. "He'z voken up, Frau Oljannie is vith him."  
  
"Oh? What's he like?" She asked.  
  
Kurt thought back on his first impressions of the new recruit.  
  
"He'z short, violet hair, slate blue eyes. I didn't talk to him much after he voke up, but he seems pretty dizturbed. He vas screaming ven he voke up, and he reminded me of something. like. a cat, you know, vun of those stray cats ven a car goes by."  
  
Kitty laughed, nothing like the bubbling of her giggles of the time before, but a sound of amusement nonetheless.  
  
"So, he's like a cat is he? If I didn't know you so well Kurt, I'd think you were, like, slightly obsessed."  
  
She laughed louder as Kurt grinned at her evilly.  
  
"So," He began, tail swinging high behind him, to and fro. "You think I'm obsessed huh?"  
  
She laughed crazily as he attacked her, tickling with his three fingered hands on one side, and with the tip of his tail on the other. She was soon in paralyzing hysterics on the bed, tears running down her face in mirth as Kurt himself laughed at her non-serious attempts to stop him. Eventually, she phased down through the bed, escaping his grip.  
  
"Keety, that's not fair!" Kurt mock-wailed, stopping to shriek himself as she reappeared behind him and jabbed her fingertips into his furry sides, tickling him back.  
  
Their room rang with the noise of shouts and laughing as their game continued, but the noises eventually settled into a contented silence as they indulged in a fight of another kind.  
  
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Next bit coming when I've finished writing it 


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

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*blink* I know… I know it's been ages. I'm sorry. I've been busy… and I've had other projects… and I lost my muse for this fic… stop LOOKING at me like that…

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Jean sat in a balcony room at the top of the new place, resting on a long wicker sofa chair, made more comfortable with large cushions. The place was peaceful, painted white with large glass windows to let the light and air in. 

From the seat placed in an alcove near the window you could see the forest stretching out underneath the house, and the clear sky and lack of light pollution let the stars shine clear during the night.

It was a place that Storm would have enjoyed, had she still been alive.

Jean did nothing but sit upright on the seat, hands demurely crossed in her lap, watching the world beneath her go on through eyes that had bled black.

Of all the X-men, the change wrought in Jean through the massacre of too many of their friends and surrogate family had been the worst. She was physically and mentally weak, frail and ethereal in her delicacy. Her hair had been left to grow long, and now reached the top of her thighs, although the luster had leaked from it, turning it a dull red brown instead of the lustrous copper of before.

The lack of her hair's health and the dark blackness of her eyes brought extra attention to the pallor and gauntness in her face. She barely talked at all anymore, and when she did her voice was soft, broken, lilting in a sing-song way that demonstrated her feeble mental condition worryingly.

"Jean? You're broadcasting again."

The soft low murmur of Xavier's voice helped Jean concentrate on trapping the emotions that were leaking from her and hide them back inside her own mind.

Xavier had been working steadily with his young protégé ever since she had recovered sufficiently from the battle. He had had to work intensively for two days after she had first awoken to stop the screams and wails of loss she was feeling from deafening the rest of the greatly culled school.

After he had helped her to build a simple 'box' inside her mind, where she could put all her thoughts and feelings in without leakage, he began working with her to help her build a similar box of her own, so that she could hold up her own mental walls.

She was doing very well, rebuilding everything she had learnt before the disastrous fight had smashed and pulled everything from her head. She was lucky to have escaped with her personality. She still had trouble holding her strong feelings and thoughts in, especially when she was stressed or tired. The worst problem she was having was what Xavier had termed 'accidental eavesdropping'. Without realising she was doing it, Jean was picking up thoughts and feelings from other people, and as the emotions running through the decimated group were anything but positive, her own mental health was being affected by it.

She suddenly turned her head towards the houses interior and whimpered softly.

"Professor?" She nearly stammered. "Who...?"

"What's wrong Jean?" Xavier asked, concerned.

Jean's brow furrowed as she concentrated.

"There's some kind of... chaos... a lot of turmoil, from the direction of the infirmary... I don't..." She seemed to reach the limits of her concentration and sank back, rubbing her head with her index finger and thumb. "I don't know who it is, but it's very unstable Professor. The things... the things I saw..." She shuddered, but Xavier put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"You did very well Jean, well done. A great improvement from last week."

She smiled and he broadcasted to Oljannie.

*Doctor, how is our young patient?*

//Oh! Professor, you know it scares me when you do that!  The patient's name is Daqyrii Zadaris and he seems to claim to come from another plane. It's very confusing. Tell me, have you ever heard of the places Siwell, or Emaht, or... what was it... Helsiv! That was it. He says he was there last.//

The Professor mentally frowned.

*None of those places exist, as far as I know.* He replied. *What else did he say?*

//Well... its complicated professor. Maybe you would like to talk to him?//

*Is he well enough?*

//He had rather extensive injuries, including contusions, lacerations, burns and massive internal bleeding. Unless what he's saying is true, as far fetched as it is, he's also suffered a lot of mental damage... not that he'll be completely mentally well even if he IS telling the truth. He's been tortured Professor, that's the basis of it. He's only fifteen! When I find the people who did this to him...//

*Calm down Adelaide. You're giving me AND yourself a headache.* There was a slight smile in his voice. *Send the boy to my office, I'll be glad to talk with him. How is young Mister Tolensky?*

Adelaide sighed.

//I don't know Charles. Physically, he'll be okay, but I don't know how much longer it'll be until he snaps and tries something like that again. These children are all too young to have gone through what they have. We'll need to keep a close eye on him, and Lance, until we know their going to be able to manage on their own, for now at least.//

*Thank you Adelaide. And you're right, they have been through a lot. But life was never going to be easy for them, and it won't be while the people out there are still ignorant about us. Until the day comes that they become educated about our kind, and cease seeing us a threat none of our children are ever going to be safe.*

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Umm… Chapter six out sometime… if you have any ideas for the fic, mail me. Or, you know, if you just wanna chat  ^___^


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